


To The End

by jonsasnow



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, Drunk Clarke, F/M, Modern AU, Volleyball AU, bellamy and clarke are team captains, idk wtf else to tag, just fluff, sad grumpy bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 19:52:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10928892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonsasnow/pseuds/jonsasnow
Summary: Bellamy and Clarke are captains of their respective volleyball teams. They're supposed to work together to help boost the image of the club except really, they just sort of argue all the time, but when Bellamy's team loses an important match and he's sitting alone at the bar, Clarke makes it her duty to cheer him up.tldr; the volleyball au that no one asked for thats really less about volleyball and more about drunk clarke





	To The End

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiii so this is my first bellarke fic so any and all comments would be so so appreciated! otherwise cheers for reading and like i know it makes more sense for them to be in america but like... i dont know how volleyball clubs work in america so i yolo'd it and went with england lol 
> 
> enjoy? x

In only the most drunk state would Clarke ever admit that Bellamy is a good captain, but he really is. He’s good and fair, and tough when he needs to be. He knows just how to get his team motivated in a way that Clarke could never understand, but the boys love him and there’s no denying that. Even if Clarke actually _does_ deny it. On a daily basis. To his face. He has a very annoying face so she could hardly be blamed for antagonising him a little. She never really means it though. She can recognise a good captain when she sees one and he’s probably one of the best. It’s the only reason why she suddenly has the really stupid urge to walk over to Bellamy at the bar and make sure he’s okay. They’re not friends, not even in a little bit; they sometimes work together as captains of the men and women’s volleyball clubs but that’s as far as their amicability lies. Not that they’re amicable then either. It’s just – he looks so miserable and he _has_ to know he did his best today. His entire team did. They were just outmatched. 

“You should go talk to him,” Clarke announces abruptly, nudging her friend in the ribs a little too forcefully. Drunk Clarke doesn’t know her own strength. 

“Talk to who?” 

“ _Bellamy_ ,” she says – wasn’t her demand obvious? 

Octavia snorts. “Why? He’s just gonna snap at me.” 

“Because he’s your brother,” Clarke says with wide eyes as if Octavia only just found out she’s related to the grump sitting by himself at the bar. “He has to know, okay?” 

“That he’s my brother?” Octavia arches a brow. “Clarke, I think after living with me for twenty years he kind of figured that one out himself.” 

Clarke frowns and elbows her again. Octavia yelps, rubbing at her side. She’d feel bad but the girl deserved it. “ _Nooo_ , that he’s… you know? A good captain and stuff. He should know that.” 

“If you’re so concerned, why don’t _you_ tell him?” another voice calls out. Clarke’s eyes snap to the blonde in front of her, frown deepening now. “What?” Harper laughs. “You’re obviously very distraught he doesn’t know.” 

“I’m not… distraught,” Clarke says petulantly, crossing her arms over her chest. “I just think… they played a really good game and they shouldn’t feel bad.” 

“Look, Bellamy pouts and he broods,” Octavia says on a sigh. “He’ll drink himself into a stupor, take some girl home and forget all about it in the morning. That’s what my brother does.” 

Something about that doesn’t sit right with Clarke. She isn’t sure if it’s the drinking himself into a stupor bit or the taking a girl home bit. She’s not sure why she cares either way but it’s definitely made her antsy sitting here in the booth with her teammates. 

“Right… I’m going to the bathroom.” 

Clarke doesn’t wait to hear their responses and slips out quickly. She knows what they’ll say. It’ll be some twisted comment about how she just wants to jump Bellamy herself. It’s totally _false_ , of course, because if she can make it nearly three years without jumping him then she can make it one more semester before they graduate and go their separate ways. It’s not like he’s _that_ hot – okay, that’s a lie. He’s very hot. He’s so hot that the first time Clarke saw Bellamy at the volleyball tryout three years ago she nearly ran into a pole because he took off his shirt right there in the sports hall. It was very distracting and completely unnecessary. There _were_ changing rooms right next to the hall. Clarke had immediately clocked him as an egotist and she hadn’t been wrong. It made their animosity worse when Bellamy found out Clarke’s mother was a member of the board of trustees at Arkadia University. She didn’t know why that mattered and it made her hate him in return – at least until Octavia came on the scene a year later and drunkenly informed Clarke of their childhood on their first night out as a team. After that, she didn’t really know what to make of him anymore and it was just easier to argue with him than to dwell on that. 

“Princess?”

She blinks rapidly, unsure of how she’d managed to walk straight up to him when she had every intention of going to the bathroom. “Uh…” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Hey, that’s my question,” Clarke says, brows raised. His lips twitch. It’s not quite a smile but it’s a start, so she pokes him in the shoulder. “C’mon. If I answer then you answer too.” 

“I didn’t agree to that.”

“I’m _good_ ,” she says, blowing past his reply. “Actually,” she lowers her voice, “I’m a little drunk and I’m not really sure how I ended up here.” 

“In this bar? Or with me?” Bellamy asks, pulling himself straighter on the stool so their eyes are level. 

“With you.”

He laughs but it’s a little sardonic, so Clarke isn’t sure she’s quite succeeded in cheering him up, especially when his next words confuse her even more. 

“Yeah, princess, I never do either.” 

Clarke wants to ask him about it but before she can respond, he signals for a refill of his tumbler glass and she frowns. “Bellamy, you don’t need to drink.”

“I don’t?” 

“No!” she insists. “You don’t! You’re a great captain and I’m sorry that you won’t win the league title in your last year but holy shit, Bell, you brought the men’s team back from the brink of death to the first division. That’s like, you know? That’s incredible!” 

A lazy smirk grows on his face as he leans back into the bar. “You think I’m great.” 

“I think you’re a great _captain_. Not so much a person,” she grouses. 

“Sure,” Bellamy nods as he hooks a finger through her belt loop and tugs her closer. “I think you think I’m great all around and you’re going to miss the hell out of me.” 

She snorts and shoves him back. “You _wish_ , Bellamy Blake. I’ll be glad to be rid of you.” 

Bellamy’s face sobers and he unhooks his finger from the loop. “I won’t.” His eyes bore into hers as he adds, “be glad to be rid of you, I mean.”

It’s the last thing Clarke expects to hear and she doesn’t know how to respond. It’s not like the feeling isn’t mutual – as much as she tries to deny it. The truth is Bellamy is a big part of her life. They aren’t just captains of their respective teams. They’re partners. Together, they can handle anything; they can take on Cage and stop him from shutting down the volleyball club. They can tackle final exams with all-nighters in the library spent testing each other. Somehow without Clarke realising it, Bellamy had become her friend. 

“That’s why I was drinking,” Bellamy continues, voice smaller and cheeks more flushed. “We lost and that sucks, and yeah, I was pretty torn up about it for awhile because it is my last year but –” He sighs and runs a hand through his curls. “But then I realised it’s my _last_ year for everything. For being here, being close to O and… well, you.” He reaches forward to take her hand. “Shit, Clarke, I don’t want us to just disappear out of each other’s lives after we graduate, okay? You’re my best friend.” 

“I… don’t want to be friends,” she blurts out without really realising what she’s saying at all. Bellamy immediately drops her hand and recoils as if he’s been slapped. It makes her want to laugh, only her throat is so tight and she thinks she’s going to cry. “I don’t want to _just_ be your friend is probably what I should’ve said.” 

“Oh yeah?” Bellamy’s smiling now and it’s better than anything she’s ever seen. Clarke instinctively moves closer toward him, crowding him against the bar. His hands grip her hips gently. “Is this okay?” 

“Blake, I just told you I want to date you I think you’re allowed to touch me however you want,” Clarke sighs, rolling her eyes in exasperation, as if her heart isn’t racing so fast in her chest she’s afraid it might just implode. 

But he’s smirking at her and that’s okay. That’s _so_ okay. 

“Thank god,” he murmurs as he tugs her towards him, their lips meeting in what could easily be described as one of the most monumental moments of her life. It’s up there with winning the Grounder Cup Tournament and the day she got accepted into Arkadia University. Actually, it’s probably better because his lips are soft and warm, and it’s stirring a deep pool of want inside her she’s about ready to tear his clothes off right there at the bar. 

When Bellamy pulls back, he chuckles, voice muffled with his head buried into her shoulder. “Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that since first year.” 

“What!” Clarke leans back. “So we could’ve been doing that for the past three years?”

“Princess, we have all the time in the world now.” 

“But we’re graduating…” 

“And we’re both moving to London.” 

“Oh,” Clarke says as she smiles so widely her cheeks ache. “So we’re going to do this, right? Like a real, serious relationship?” 

“With you to the end, Clarke.” 

 


End file.
